


The Darkroom

by xeniaraven



Series: The 1970's Universe [2]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1970s, Anakin tries to figure himself out, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Car Sex, Cock Warming, College Student Anakin Skywalker, Dirty Talk, Edging, Face-Fucking, Hand Feeding, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, NSFW Art, Photographer Obi-Wan Kenobi, Praise Kink, Riding, Rimming, Sensory Deprivation, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, stoplight safewords, the beauty of 1970s interior design
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26383981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xeniaraven/pseuds/xeniaraven
Summary: Watch the film of Obi-Wan and Anakin's life develop in The Darkroom: a collection of 1977AU oneshots. These all follow the starting fic Intricacies on Film where Obi-Wan is a famous photographer and Anakin is in his junior year of college studying art while having an internship at the local mechanics shop on the side.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Anakin Skywalker
Series: The 1970's Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917475
Comments: 38
Kudos: 147





	1. Of Mirrors and Dark Rooms

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to the 1977 AU! I promised more of these beautiful groovy boys and I am here to deliver some occasional one-shots for you all. Feel free to come find me on [tumblr](https://xeniaraven.tumblr.com) and yell about Star Wars or anything you want with me! 
> 
> Intricacies on Film is the official first part of the series here so please read that before this! Technically you could enjoy them without that, but it's more fun when you know the origins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes: sensory deprivation (sight) and edging

Anakin was not counting on the rain to pour from the heavens the second he set up the picnic. The forecast only gave it a 20% chance of rain, which to him was practically 0, considering how little humidity was in the air. Fall was in full swing, the leaves burning their own bright scarlet and orange around the wildflower field Obi-Wan and Anakin had come to call their own home. 

How much the scenery had changed over the couple of months they had been together. The flowers had started to wilt away to be replaced by the long golden stalks fluttering in the breeze. A small indent kept its place in the field from all the multiple times Obi-Wan and Anakin had come out here for their photoshoots, dates, and other miscellaneous activities. 

But of course, the second Anakin laid out their blanket and brought out all of the snacks he had packed, a few drops of rain hit the back of Anakin’s shirt, and he could tell the signs of a storm coming over the top of the treeline. 

“Can’t we just have one picnic,” Anakin whined as Obi-Wan came to stand next to him, giving him a small kiss.

“If you’re comfortable, we can go back to my place?” Obi-Wan said between short, soft kisses as the rain started hitting their skin a bit more frequently. “I’ve been meaning to show you how to develop film.”

“Mmm, that sounds like fun. Might be helpful for my final.”

Anakin didn’t want to leave Obi-Wan’s warm side until the rain started pouring on them, the coldness sinking straight into his bones. Quickly they grabbed everything they could from the field, throwing their worn blanket back into the shack and packing the food into the trunk of Obi-Wan’s car. 

They both collapsed into their respective seats in the car, laughing at their rain-soaked hair and rivulets of water running down the curves of their faces. Anakin was entirely uncomfortable, rain finding its way to parts of him that he never really wanted to feel rain in. There was a big difference between warm shower water, and cold rainwater. One of them being fully clothed, with jeans sticking to skin and cotton that gets far too itchy when wet. 

After a rather unpleasant drive over, Anakin and Obi-Wan were running up to Obi-Wan’s front door, trying to dash past raindrops as Anakin yelled _hurry hurry!_ Obi-Wan fumbling with the lock, laughing all the while. 

“This is my place,” Obi-Wan said, pushing the front door open as Anakin ran straight into the living room.

For how much Obi-Wan called it an apartment, this was far more like a condo than anything. The living room was so spacious, the only thing Anakin could think of was how it was like five of his dorm room sizes put together. He didn’t have much to compare to considering how small his house was growing up. 

Every inch of this place was covered in various artwork of all different mediums: a chaotic sort of organized, with nothing entirely matching and yet everything feeling as if it was in place. Instead of a traditional living room, Obi-Wan had a conversation pit, filled with different pillows and blankets that had Anakin one second from jumping straight into the pile until he remembered his clothes. 

“Bedroom is around the corner here,” Obi-Wan said, grabbing Anakin’s hand after they took off their shoes. “You can borrow a pair of my clothes. Just pick out something from the drawers and get changed.”

“Oh, thank you,” Anakin said, watching Obi-Wan walk towards the adjacent bathroom before closing the door behind him. 

Obi-Wan’s bedroom was filled with the same kind of chaotic energy that the living room encompassed. Thankfully, all of his bedroom furniture matched, and the carpet was still plush beneath Anakin’s cold feet. There were two full-length mirrors in his room, one on either side of the dressers, with old polaroids and other pictures taped around the edges. Anakin took the time to look at each one of them, smiling at the ones where he was just an unruly teenager, maybe only 5 years younger than Anakin. There were ones with family, and a few road trips it seemed. He was happy. Exuberant. And the happiness rubbed off on Anakin with each silly photo he stared at. 

“I thought I told you to get changed,” Obi-Wan came up behind Anakin, kissing his neck and wrapping his arms around Anakin’s waist, clearly having stripped into a towel, his cool, damp skin pressed against Anakin’s still-wet shirt. 

“What’s this one from?” Anakin pointed to an image of Obi-Wan on some sort of beach, passed out on a chair with his hand hanging off it, fingertips trailing on the sand.

“That’s California,” Obi-Wan moved away from him to pull on a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt. “I had gone on a road trip with some college friends and passed out on the shoreline from one too many drinks. It was a good trip, but many of us don’t speak much anymore. They have lives and families now and I followed my passion away from them.”

“Well, they didn’t draw on your face or write something on your skin in sunscreen so they must have been great friends.”

“The best,” Obi-Wan said sadly, sinking his chin into Anakin’s shoulder once he came back to his side. “Now hurry up and change. I want to teach you how to develop your film.”

Anakin picked out a simple t-shirt and pair of running shorts from Obi-Wan’s dresser before wandering the condo to find him. He almost missed him if it wasn’t for the shot of a film canister coming up from the conversation pit. Anakin jumped straight into the pit, falling into the giant square of couch and laughing like a schoolboy. 

“I take it you’re ready then?” Obi-Wan chuckled, coming to lean over him and press a quick kiss to his lips, both of them giggling too much for more.

“Lead the way. That is, if you can convince me to get out of the _square of comfort_.”

“Never call it that again,” he laughed. “And I don’t need to convince you to get out of the pit.”

“Oh yeah?” Anakin challenged, cocking an eyebrow.

The yelp that came out of Anakin’s mouth as Obi-Wan scooped him up, bridal style, and carried him out of the conversation pit was so foreign to Anakin’s ears he barely recognized it as his own. Obi-Wan carried him jokingly kicking and screaming all the way down the hallway to a secluded doorway with one single lightbulb above the door frame.

“Welcome to my in-home darkroom. I converted this little room myself so I could stop renting out studio space just to develop my film."

Obi-Wan opened the door, ushering Anakin into the pitch-black space inside. Of course, it wouldn't be a dark room if there was light pouring in everywhere. 

As soon as Obi-Wan got inside he closed the door and flicked on a light switch, illuminating the space in a deep red. There was enough light to make out shapes and small details, but with everything bathed in red the room almost felt villainous. 

"We have to start by developing the film first before I can make any prints. Developing the film isn’t too difficult, it’s everything with printmaking that can get ghastly.”

Anakin watched as Obi-Wan moved around the room with poise that only comes from having done this multiple times. He grabbed multiple bottles, a few reels, a thermometer, and asked Anakin to pass him a metal container from the table behind him. 

"First, we have to get the film off the canister here and into these plastic reels. Can you grab the film out of my camera bag for me dear?"

Digging through the different pouches Anakin noticed that it was quiet enough to hear the rain pouring outside. It felt strange, not being able to see the weather and having everything be monochromatic in reds and blacks. Finally, he found a few different canisters, shaking them lightly to make sure they had film in them, before giving them back to Obi-Wan. 

“Ok, you get this one,” Obi-Wan handed one back to Anakin. “It’s my test strip when I first went to the meadow so you can practice without feeling like you might ruin something.”

“Oh, I see how it is. Nice film for you-”

“If you mess up this one it means you have to go back and retake these shots,” Obi-Wan side-eyed him from over his shoulder. “And I’d like to see you try and ask Padme’s permission for her dress again.”

“Ok yeahyeahsure this one is fine. A-ok by me.”

“Now, I’m going to demonstrate this while the red light is still on, but when you actually do this you’ll be in complete darkness ok? Take your time. No need to rush through it. I’ll most likely finish quickly but that doesn’t mean you should hurry. If you mess it up you won’t have any film to try and print with.”

Anakin listened as Obi-Wan explained what he would do after he popped open the film canister and where to properly cut the film off from the spool. After it was cut he’d have to take his time and load it onto the reel properly, feeling against the edge for a small slit to slip the film between then carefully twist the reel until it was all in place. 

Seemed easy enough. 

Obi-Wan flicked the red light off, killing all sight Anakin had. There was nothing but the sound of his own breathing, the rain beating against the roof, and the few sounds of Obi-Wan clicking open his film canister in mere seconds. Anakin kept struggling, feeling around the top of to get the bottle opener underneath the cap to flip it open but failing every time. 

Anakin couldn’t see anything in the room to help him. No matter how much his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness it was pitch black, exactly how it was meant to be but too much of a difficulty for Anakin’s first time trying it. He heard Obi-Wan starting to roll up his film into the reel, the rhythmic sound of the wheel turning before the metal film tank’s lid was popped off, and the tell-tale sound of plastic hitting the bottom of it rang out into the room. 

He was a fumbling mess the entire time he tried putting his film on the reel. He could feel it coming up in places, and when he unwound to try again he struggled to find the slit again. Then he heard footsteps coming towards him, just a slight few, and felt Obi-Wan’s breath on his neck before the touch of his lips sending an involuntary shiver down Anakin’s spine. 

“You’re doing wonderful love. Here,” Obi-Wan trailed his hands down Anakin’s arms until he felt the film reel in Anakin’s hands, readjusting his finger placement to make loading the reel a bit easier. “Pinch the sides of your film just a bit to help get this into place.”

Anakin was finally able to get the start of his film into the reel, pushing the film further into the reel before twisting the sides. He still felt the ghost of Obi-Wan’s breath on his skin, the heat emanating from his chest pressed up against his back. The slow trail of Obi-Wan’s fingertips over the fabric of his shirt, dipping underneath it to slide his fingers across Anakin’s chest and stomach. 

Every point in that room was suddenly fixated on wherever Obi-Wan’s hands were trailing, the only grounding thing in the pitch blackness before him. Anakin leaned his head back onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder, his mind’s eye following the map that the pads of Obi-Wan’s fingertips were drawing against his skin. 

“Keep turning it,” Obi-Wan whispered in his ear, nibbling on his earlobe and knocking Anakin back into the awareness that he had slipped from.

“I mean, we could just…”

“Develop film first. How do you expect to be a phenomenal photographer without the means of developing your own shots?”

Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s hands dip beneath the waistband of his shorts, fingertips digging into his hips and pulling him back flush against his chest. A small whine escaped Anakin’s lips at the feeling of Obi-Wan already half-hard, pressed against him. Anakin pushed his hips back even further, earning him a small laugh before Obi-Wan nipped at his neck and sucked a small bruise into the delicate skin. 

“D-done,” Anakin panted out, hand rummaging in the dark to find the film tank that he knew was behind him on the table. 

“Good boy,” Obi-Wan purred into his skin, the words a low hum that Anakin hadn’t heard before. 

Unscrewing the lid quickly Anakin dropped his film reel into the tank, turning around quickly to try and capture Obi-Wan, only to find a lack of heat from behind him, and the red light flickering back on.

“Light on for just a bit. I have to pour the developer into the top and I wouldn’t want to spill.”

Even with his eyes adjusting Anakin was shocked at how composed Obi-Wan looked. He walked over to the long table on the left side of the room with such grace Anakin would have thought nothing happened. 

“Are you ok?” Obi-Wan asked as he poured the developer in.

“Yeah good. Good good good. Better than good.” Anakin didn’t even know entirely what he was saying, but with a nod from Obi-Wan he realized the answer he gave was at least appropriate. All he wanted was for Obi-Wan to get back over here and let him grind into him more.

“Ok, I need you to shake the container for me. 10 minutes in total. I have a timer set.”

“I don’t know if I have the forearm strength for that.”

“Considering your age,” Obi-Wan raised a brow at him. “I’m sure you’ve had masturbation sessions longer than that. You can handle it. But the good news is, you only have to shake it in intervals.”

Anakin knew Obi-Wan couldn’t see the blush rise to his cheeks underneath the red lighting, and he was incredibly happy for it. What a dumb remark to make in the first place he thought. He tried clearing his throat to choke down his embarrassment, only to embarrass himself more with how loud it sounded in the room.

“For the first minute, shake it for 30 seconds, set it down for 20 seconds, and then shake it again for 10 seconds. The rest of the time, shake for 10 seconds, let it rest for 50. Can you keep track of that for ten minutes?”

“Yeah. Got it.”

Obi-Wan placed a piece of black electrical tape around the seam of the film tank after finishing filling it with the developer before handing it to Anakin. The cool metal against Anakin’s palm was enough to make him swoon before he realized that the counting started now. 

_One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi._

He made it to four before Obi-Wan shut the light off, bathing them in darkness once more. Anakin could hear the sloshing of the liquid in the canister next to him, and the sound of Obi-Wan’s footsteps finding their way back to him again. A set of hands lightly pressed against his chest, pushing him backward until he was leaning on the desk behind him. 

Obi-Wan’s hands came to dance underneath his shirt again, pulling the hem of it up between his index finger and thumb as he moved the palms of his hands up Anakin’s sides. Anakin’s breathing hitched minutely, the only sound he could hear now was his own heartbeat running out of his chest. 

_Thirty Mississippi_. 

Anakin placed the film tank next to him on the table with a small clang, the metal far too loud in the room. 

“Arms up,” he heard Obi-Wan saying, obeying as he was stripped of his shirt. 

Quickly Obi-Wan was pressed flush to his front, coming to suck more bruises into the junction where Anakin’s neck met his shoulder, occasionally biting and sending a jolt of pleasure straight through Anakin. He was shamelessly trying to grind against Obi-Wan before a knee came between his legs, giving him exactly what he was looking for. 

“I thought you said you could keep track,” Obi-Wan whispered into his ear, jolting Anakin from his blissed state once again. 

_Right. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi._

Once the twenty seconds were up and Anakin got to have his hand free again Obi-Wan disappeared from in front of him. Anakin tensed just slightly at the anticipation, wondering what was happening next. The hair on his arms stood as it waited for Obi-Wan’s breath to return to it, to give some sign that he was still there. 

_Six Mississippi_ Anakin tried to keep track of the next ten and fifty seconds in his head. 

Finally, Anakin felt Obi-Wan in front of him again, taking one nipple into his mouth, tongue rolling over the bud languidly. He flinched just slightly before relaxing into the touch, hands gripping the table behind him as he arched into Obi-Wan’s mouth. He felt another hand move up his torso before coming up to his other nipple, rolling it between his fingertips. 

“Are you counting?” Obi-Wan asked as he moved to take Anakin’s other nipple in his mouth, switching his hands. 

“Thi--thirt-thirty five.”

“Mmm, good boy. Good darling.”

A knee was shoved back between Anakin’s legs, allowing him to shamelessly grind against it as Obi-Wan continued sucking and lightly biting on Anakin’s nipple before he felt him pull away, exhaling lightly on Anakin’s chest, the air turning the spit cold and causing Anakin to shiver. 

Once Anakin’s count hit fifty he clumsily reached out beside him, wrapping his hand around the canister again and starting his count back from one. Ten seconds was nothing, but it felt like forever since Obi-Wan seemed insistent on leaving him at that moment. 

_Ten Mississippi_. Anakin placed the canister back down on the table, waiting for his love to return. 

Hands skimmed their way up his legs, sending chills straight down his spine as they came up under the fabric of his shorts before sliding down the inside of his thighs. Anakin wanted to cry with how hard he was, how his cock was begging for attention.

“Obi-Wan please- dammit just- I swear-”

“What’s your count?”

“Fif-Fifteen.”

“Good boy.”

Obi-Wan mouthed at Anakin’s cock through the fabric of his shorts, causing Anakin to buck his hips into the warmth. His skin was on fire to everything, and even with just one layer of fabric, it was far too much between his cock and the warmth of Obi-Wan’s mouth. He wanted Obi-Wan’s lips wrapped around him already but he could barely think beyond the feeling of his skin, of not knowing where Obi-Wan was unless he wanted to be known. 

Finally, Anakin felt his shorts get tugged down, freeing his cock. He couldn’t see himself but he knew he was leaking, the heat in his lower belly enough to make him come in seconds with nothing visual to concentrate on. He felt Obi-Wan kiss up the inside of his thighs before mouthing at his balls, sucking lightly before running the flat of his tongue up, tracing the vein until he came to the tip, flicking his tongue at the slit, collecting all of Anakin’s precome before leaving from Anakin’s touch again. 

“Agh- fuck please,” Anakin cried as he grabbed the canister again, knowing this would be the longest ten seconds of his existence, and it might only get worse. 

“Eager as always,” he heard, the breath on the inside of his leg pulling a moan from Anakin’s lips. 

Anakin practically threw the canister down onto the table after the ten seconds were up, four minutes into the longest ten minutes of his life. 

_O-one. Two, fuck- two_

Anakin felt a hand wrap around the base of his cock before warm, wet lips enveloped the tip, tongue circling the head before slowly working down his entire length. Quickly Anakin was losing count, accidentally restarting the twenties again, or skipping a number here and there. All he could concentrate on was how Obi-Wan’s mouth felt, and how his hand at the base was working in perfect time with it. 

Obi-Wan moaned against his length before pulling off, nipping at the delicate skin of his hipbone before speaking. 

“You’re supposed to be counting. It’s time to shake it.”

“Right,” Anakin breathed out, not moving an inch. “Right.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan pulled away to speak, leaving Anakin panting into the space between them. “If you don’t concentrate you’ll ruin my film.”

“You- hng- you expect me to concentrate!” Anakin squeaked at the end as Obi-Wan hollowed his cheeks, adding the perfect amount of suction, pushing him closer to that glorious edge. But as soon as he felt the warmth pooling tight in his stomach, mere seconds from finally having his release, Obi-Wan moved off of him with a _pop_ , wiping his mouth and coming to stand in front of Anakin.

“If you can’t concentrate my love, you can’t come,” Obi-Wan sucked on Anakin’s earlobe, trailing his fingers lightly up and down Anakin’s throbbing cock. 

“No, no no-” he ended with a moan, head thrown back desperate for more. 

“Anakin, are you ok with this?” Obi-Wan asked, a hint of seriousness behind his tone as he stopped, cradling Anakin’s cheek in his hand.

He felt Anakin nod vigorously against his hand as if somehow nodding quickly would get him back on his knees. Then Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s arms wrap around his thighs, pulling him up and onto the desk behind him, roughly pulling him forward so he was seated right at the very edge. 

“I want to hear you say it. Verbal Anakin. Use your words.”

“I swear to all things if you don’t fuck me today I am never seeing you again,” Anakin said through gritted teeth, wrapping a hand through Obi-Wan’s hair to pull him in for a kiss. 

“Oh darling I assure you, you’re getting fucked. But first, it’s been fifty seconds again.”

“Fuck this canister,” Anakin mumbled out, reaching out with one hand to shake it again while wrapping his legs around Obi-Wan’s waist. 

Obi-Wan leaned over Anakin, pulling tightly on the soft curls at the base of his neck to get Anakin to expose his neck, letting Obi-Wan bite along the line of it. Tongue darting out to taste the sweat and faint remnants of soap along his Adam’s apple before capturing Anakin in a searing kiss. 

Anakin arched into every one of Obi-Wan’s touches, moaning into their kiss as Obi-Wan finally leaned forward enough for Anakin to grind his aching cock into his hip. He could feel the outline of Obi-Wan’s erection pressed into him, still trapped underneath far too many layers of clothing for Anakin’s liking. 

Dragging his nails up Obi-Wan’s back, Anakin moved to take his shirt off, throwing it down onto the floor between them again. He had all but forgotten about the damn film tank next to them, noticing as Obi-Wan moved himself to shake it for the ten seconds necessary as he kissed Anakin, tongues swirling together, desperate to be as close to one another as possible. 

But as soon as Anakin was finally close enough, thrusting desperately against Obi-Wan’s hip, not caring about the friction against Obi-Wan’s pants, just needy for his release, the timer went off. 

Obi-Wan quickly pulled off of Anakin as if nothing had happened, grabbing the canister and flicking on the red light. Now that Anakin could see he noticed how disheveled Obi-Wan was: hair entirely out of place and shirt so wrinkled the creases might never come out. He was panting just as hard as Anakin, moving to fix his hair as he walked over to a few more bottles of what looked to be more chemicals. 

“Once you’re done agitating you need to make a stop bath,” Obi-Wan started, looking over his shoulder. “Anakin, are you listening?”

“Yes sir. Full attention.”

“Good. You need to make a stop bath. Drain your old chemicals out and add in the new mixture. Swirl for thirty seconds.”

As Anakin watched Obi-Wan from across the room. He was incredibly aware of how naked he was on this table, and how much he _really_ needed to come. Hoping Obi-Wan wouldn’t notice he grabbed his own cock, slowly working his hand up and down to find his release. If Obi-Wan wouldn’t give it to him, he surely could give it to himself. 

“Tsk, don’t you dare,” Obi-Wan said, glaring at him. “Only I get to make that pretty cock come today.”

“Well you’re not doing a good job at it so far,” Anakin glared, continuing despite the warning. He watched him drain one chemical out and add another to the batch, failing to explain exactly what he was doing. He quickly wiped his hands off in a spare towel next to him. 

Obi-Wan stomped over to him, canister in hand, and a seething glare across his face. “I said, only I get to make you come tonight. And I want you to come on my cock,” he grabbed Anakin’s wrist with his free hand, forcing Anakin to stop his movement, “ _Only_.”

“Can’t that just _wait_?” Anakin whined, motioning to the canister again. Obi-Wan caught his chin in his hand, smirking. 

“Three more minutes. Can you handle that?”

“You know I’m not patient.”

“Try to find the tiniest shred of patience for me dearest and I’ll be sure to make it worth your wait,” Obi-Wan drew him back in for a long kiss, freehand moving to wrap around Anakin’s cock again, moving at a tantalizing slow place. Soon after he pulled back from their kissing, sucking spit into his mouth and letting a long line of it drip down onto the head of Anakin’s cock. Obi-Wan watched as Anakin’s eyes followed the trail, lips parted and eyes blown in the most beautiful show of lust he had ever seen. 

Anakin bit his lower lip, watching Obi-Wan’s hand move along his length. He was mesmerized by the way precome was leaking out of the head, mixing with the spit to coat Obi-Wan’s hand. He bit back a moan as Obi-Wan twisted his hand, pulling harder than usual and sending searing heat straight to his core. He struggled to keep his eyelids open to watch, to see the way Obi-Wan looked at him the entire time. Soon he was thrusting up into Obi-Wan’s hand, practically begging him to move faster, so close to finally releasing the tension that threatened to snap at any second. 

And then the timer went off again. 

“Fuck no no no no-” Anakin whined as Obi-Wan let go again, wiping his hand on his pants and going back over to the other table. 

“Anakin?”

“No I mean, like, yes but also like fuck no come _back_.”

Anakin could feel the heat pooling from his cock as it twitched. He had never been more aroused in his entire life, the need to be fucked clouding his vision so much he was practically drunk on it. The corners of everything were hazy and he titled his head back, fingers digging painfully around the wooden edge of the desk, oblivious to the world, imagining how he would be fucked later. How it would feel to be stretched open, fucked into over and over again as he went pliant to every touch. The words whispered against his skin he bit into Obi-Wan’s shoulder. The sounds filling the-

“Dearest are you listening?”

“Hmm?” Anakin tilted his head forward to see Obi-Wan in front of him again, his hands pressed firmly on the top of Anakin’s thighs, leaning on them. 

“I said they’ll need to dry for a few hours. So unless you’ve suddenly decided-”

Anakin pushed Obi-Wan back a bit before sliding off the table and pulling Obi-Wan flush to him. In a flurry of stumbling, they finally made it to the door, Obi-Wan pushing Anakin back against it before hearing Anakin growl in his ear: “Bedroom. _Now_.”

They separated themselves momentarily to get the door open, remembering to close it once they were out. Hot and desperate open-mouthed kisses were shared between them as they blindly shuffled their way down the hallway to another door, one that led them into Obi-Wan’s bedroom from the other side. Anakin pushed Obi-Wan back onto the bed, smiling as he landed with a soft _thud_ before crawling on top of him. 

Somewhere in the mix of shuffling Obi-Wan had gotten the rest of his clothing off, hissing at Anakin’s cock rubbing against his own as Anakin straddled him, leaning over to suck and bite on Obi-Wan’s neck. Anakin ground his hips down, both of them needy and aching for whatever friction they could find. They both moaned into the touch, Anakin coming to muffle Obi-Wan’s with a kiss, biting Obi-Wan’s lower lip just slightly and enjoying the lingering taste of mint tea on his tongue. 

Obi-Wan grabbed beneath Anakin’s knees, pulling his hips up further so his cock would slide against Anakin’s ass, the feeling of it entirely intoxicating before ushering for Anakin to sit up on his knees more. 

“Lube. Side table,” Obi-Wan pointed to Anakin, watching as he grabbed one of the small bottles from the drawer. 

Anakin keened at the feeling of finally having Obi-Wan’s finger against his rim, rocking his hips down just a bit to try and get the stretch he craved, but Obi-Wan pulled back, smirking. It earned him a small whine as Obi-Wan circled his entrance, teasing him just a bit longer. 

“Please-” Anakin finally locked eyes with him, looking needy as ever as Obi-Wan finally pushed one finger in, his other hand coming around Anakin’s cock, working them both in rhythm with each other. 

“You’re so pretty for me dearest. So stunning all blissed out and begging. Wanting me to fuck you into oblivion. Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” Anakin breathed out, rocking back and forth on Obi-Wan’s finger slowly, already desperate for the slight sting of being stretched further. “More. I need…”

“So desperate. You want another already, love?”

Anakin nodded his head quickly, tongue darting out to lick his lips in anticipation. The second Obi-Wan’s second finger reached the first knuckle Anakin was already losing himself; the pleasure wrapping him up in a blanket he could only ever find through Obi-Wan. The heat and want pooling in him he could barely register anything else in the room beside the man just beneath him. He was practically vibrating with every feeling across his body.

“Good boy. You’re doing so well. Taking my fingers so well, fucking yourself on them. I could watch you falling apart like this for hours watching, the sheen of your skin dazzling against the light as your pant for me, cry out your pleasure. I adore how your perfect body paints itself in furies of reds: the blush on your face is divine. ”

“And you’re-ah- you’re the one that put it there.”

“I am. What else do you want from me, love? What have you been dreaming of at night, touching yourself to the thought of me doing to you?”

“I wanna fuck myself on you. I-I want to bounce on your cock until my thighs give out and then you fuck up into me even harder. Please- I want to be good for you so good. I want to be your perfect muse, your perfect love.”

“Anything else?”

“I want you to fuck me into the mattress so hard I’m crying from pleasure, I want-” Obi-Wan teased a third finger at Anakin’s entrance, causing Anakin’s mind to white out for a second as the familiar sensation of Obi-Wan’s thick fingers covered his senses. “Please I just- I wanna be fucked until I can’t walk. _Obi-Wan_ ,” Anakin moaned out his name like a prayer to whatever god or goddess was looking down upon them. 

Obi-Wan sat up a bit, coming to kiss Anakin’s chest as he worked his fingers in and out of Anakin’s tight heat, knowing he was almost ready, so close. Anakin held onto Obi-Wan’s hair lightly as Obi-Wan kissed and nipped down his torso, enjoying the way Anakin’s back arched into his touch. He ran his other hand up Anakin’s spine and back down again, grabbing the curve of Anakin’s ass before swatting it lightly, earning a muffled moan from Anakin. 

“Obi-Wan I’m- I’m ready,”

“Ok, love,” Obi-Wan leaned back down onto the bed, hands coming to lay on Anakin’s thighs as he laid onto a pile of pillows, watching Anakin line himself up with his cock. As Anakin slowly sank down, the tip finally pushing past the ring of muscle, Obi-Wan moaned into the room, fighting to keep from pushing up into Anakin anymore. Anakin collapsed slightly at the feeling of being stretched full, of having Obi-Wan’s cock buried inside of him. His shoulders slumped forward, one hand outstretched against Obi-Wan’s chest to steady himself as he slowly pushed himself down further. 

Once Anakin finally bottomed out he started moving his hips in slow circles again Obi-Wan, adjusting to having Obi-Wan’s cock fully sheathed inside him. Obi-Wan dug his fingers into Anakin’s hips, moving down to grab Anakin’s ass and move him slowly back up until just the tip was buried before Anakin sunk back down again. 

“Gods you’re gorgeous. Do you like taking me like this Anakin? Love fucking yourself on my cock?”

Anakin’s only reply was a smattering of moans and whimpers as he worked himself up and down faster, occasionally grinding his ass into Obi-Wan’s hips, making Obi-Wan’s vision go blurry with ecstasy. 

As Anakin started to slow, the curls of his hair a mess and clinging to his forehead, Obi-Wan started thrusting up to meet Anakin. The first one caught Anakin a bit by surprise, the most beautiful, high pitched _ah_ falling from his mouth as he leaned his head back, hands coming back to grip Obi-Wan’s legs. He fluttered his eyelids closed, eyelashes batting like butterfly wings as he gave into the feeling of Obi-Wan hitting that sweet spot inside him over and over again. 

Obi-Wan kept thrusting up into him, Anakin rocking into him as best as he could, thighs starting to tremble a bit before Obi-Wan helped him move, settling him down onto his knees so Obi-Wan could take over, head still tilted backward and chest heaving underneath Obi-Wan’s palm. 

“Open your eyes Anakin. Look at yourself.”

Anakin opened his eyes to the most erotic sight on the planet: watching himself being fucked from above. Obi-Wan had mirrors lining the ceiling of his bedroom, something Anakin would remind himself to compliment or question him on later. He watched himself as Obi-Wan thrust up into him, seeing Obi-Wan’s face as he was getting fucked. He followed the way his dirty blonde hair jostled with every move of Obi-Wan’s hips and the way it tousled softly down his shoulders. The way his back was arched, the curve of his own ass taking Obi-Wan’s cock over and over again, and the way Obi-Wan looked at him, seemed to devour him with sight alone. 

It was more beautiful than the ceiling of Sistine Chapel, and was almost enough to make Anakin come right there.

“Look at yourself. Taking my cock so well. Riding me so perfectly. I could watch you all day like this, begging, pleading, finding release only with me. Would you like that?”

“Yes!” Anakin breathed out, finally turning his gaze away from the reflection and back down to Obi-Wan, hand splayed across his chest again as he let himself get fucked. Each thrust hit him so perfectly he saw stars. Nothing in the world could measure up to how well they moved together, how perfectly they sounded moaning into each other’s skin, eliciting every pleasure from each other as physically possible. 

It didn’t take much longer for Obi-Wan’s pace to become more erratic and Anakin’s breathing to fall out of pace. Obi-Wan gripped Anakin’s cock, throbbing now with his need to come, moving in time to his thrusts. 

“Look up. I want you to see how heavenly you look when you come for me”

Anakin looked back up at the mirrors, watching as Obi-Wan fisted his cock and pushed up into him. With a few more pulls he was toppling over the edge, watching himself through hazy eyelids as he came across Obi-Wan’s chest. Spurts of white covering the entirety of Obi-Wan’s torse. Watched as his face contorted into bliss, lips falling open into a beautiful O and body spasming just a bit as he was fucked through his orgasm. 

“Ah, Anakin, fuck-” Obi-Wan moaned out as he stilled, filling Anakin with his come. After a few minutes, Anakin rolled over off Obi-Wan and onto his side, enjoying the cool pillowcase against his head. 

He reached out for Obi-Wan, only to find an empty bed next to him, panic setting into his stomach as he dragged his hand across the bedsheets furiously. 

“It’s ok dear. Shh I’m here. I just had to clean up really quick. I’d never leave you.”

Anakin felt the mattress sink as Obi-Wan came to lay next to him again, nuzzling into Obi-Wan’s chest as he slowly slipped into a hazy sleep. He wasn’t entirely asleep, but he was far too blissed out to truly be focused on anything either.

“Do you need anything love? Water? Blanket?”

Anakin just shook his head no into Obi-Wan’s chest, “ J’st you,” he said in his haze, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist and wrapping a leg over his. “D’n’t leave. Stay.”

“Nothing in the galaxy could take me from you,” Anakin felt Obi-Wan press a kiss to the top of his head. “I couldn't leave my muse if I tried.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I beg for forgiveness for any typos I might have had.


	2. Of French Photography

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, this goes out to “_(:3 」∠)_” who I truly hope stops by to read this. You inspired all of the chaos in this one shot and we love you for it. If you don’t know who you are by that, you’ll figure it out fairly quickly. 
> 
> There is also (NSFW) art! A huge huge thank you to Tomicaleto who drew the fabulous art at the end which then also inspired me to write all of this. She also beta'd this so big heart eyes for everything she had to do with this. Go check out her [tumblr](https://tomicaleto.tumblr.com/) and AO3!
> 
> This chapter includes cock warming, rimming, a bit of edging, and light bondage

Winter had come quickly to town, filling the back roads in layers of sleet and snow. Unfortunately, it would usually come unexpectedly, trapping Anakin at Obi-Wan’s place even if he had classes in the morning. Anakin never minded, though his grades were starting to take notice of his absence. But it was winter break and his mother had agreed that it might be easier to stay at Obi-Wan’s place than to drive the few states back home. The only catch being that he would bring this mysterious boyfriend around for Christmas. 

That’s how Anakin found himself curled into Obi-Wan’s side for the past week. It’s how he also found himself in many _other_ positions, many of which he had learned to like more than others. He was never afraid to try something new, in fact, the thought of pleasing Obi-Wan, of being able to relax into a new position or new idea was exhilarating. The most fun Anakin had had in his sex life since it had begun. 

In the late morning hours of Saturday morning, Anakin felt Obi-Wan slowly slide out of bed, most likely to make breakfast. Usually, Anakin was the one up early, but after a particularly intense session, or sometimes whenever Obi-Wan felt like it, he’d make breakfast so Anakin could sleep in just a bit more. 

Anakin was _not_ in the mood for sleep though. His cock was already hard from his dream last night and wanted, even in his half-dazed state, to continue what they had finished last night. He tried ignoring it, nuzzling himself into the shag blanket even more now that he had it all to himself. But no matter how much he tried to drift back to sleep, the scent of Obi-Wan on the blanket and the hazy reminiscence of the night before were just on the edge of his consciousness. 

A mischievous, bratty morning it was, then. 

He was not about to let this batch of mischief go to waste. Who was Anakin Skywalker if he wasn’t a little tease at every waking hour of the day? Maybe a blushy bubbly, giggly mess of awkwardness, but with Obi-Wan, he knew he could get what he wanted with a pretty face and a tiny bit of begging. 

Still naked from last night, his mind started flipping through all the things he could possibly do to get Obi-Wan to fuck him again this morning. Interrupting cooking with sex? No, that was too often, and plus they almost burned the condo down last time. Coming out in one of Obi-Wan's shirts and jerking himself off while watching? Being obnoxious with his moans until Obi-Wan felt the need to shut him up with his cock? Yeah, he wasn't too happy about ruining dinner last time, but then again you can't be too frustrated after coming down your boyfriend's throat. 

Anakin quickly realized all of his ideas meant getting out of the comfort of the bed, and he was not about to give up this plush blanket and pile of pillows for much right now. He wanted to play, not put work in. He’d rather be told to take it than have to put in any effort, especially at this hour of the morning. 

As he rolled over onto his other side, coincidentally wrapping himself in the warmth of the blanket and Obi-Wan’s scent, he found exactly what he was looking for. Obi-Wan’s camera bag was on the bedside table, top open, with his Minolta stashed inside. There wasn’t necessarily a rule _against_ playing with his camera, but part of him knew it probably wasn’t encouraged either. 

This might have been the silliest idea he had ever come up with. It could either end with the best fucking of his life or, and he knew this was the more likely possibility, it would end in a cohort of giggles and stupidity. 

Either way, he’d be happy. 

The idea came to full fruition once Anakin woke more, thinking about all the artwork in Obi-Wan’s apartment he had come to know over the months. Obi-Wan was insistent at pointing some of them out, especially the French photographs that were hung sporadically. These happened to be of men and women who were nude. Well, _almost_ nude. To Anakin, it was simply insulting that he hadn’t been photographed in his entirety like that. 

"Breakfast is ready!” Obi-Wan yelled from the kitchen. “I know you're awake," Anakin could hear the smile in his voice and the clink of two plates being set on the table. 

"Come in here!" Anakin yelled. 

"What are you up to," he could hear his voice getting closer, the hint of a laugh behind it. 

The glint that came across Obi-Wan’s face to the sight of Anakin laid across his bed with nothing but his Minolta precisely placed to cover his cock was all Anakin needed that morning. It was working. He watched as Obi-Wan trailed his eyes from the tip of his fingers, down his chest to the curls poking out just behind the body of the camera, to the long line of his leg. His heart raced watching the way Obi-Wan paused ever so slightly when his eyes found the marks he had left over the week claiming Anakin as his. 

"Photograph me like one of your French boys," Anakin smirked, lifting one of his legs high into the air. 

"I would, dearest,” Obi-Wan smiled before licking his lips and biting his bottom lip. “But it seems you have my camera."

"Come and get it."

In a daze of confusion, Anakin watched as Obi-Wan walked towards the other hallway. There was something stiff in his posture, in how he held himself. Anakin realized he had started his own scene and Obi-Wan was playing right along. 

"Wait come b-" he started whining.

"Stay there," he heard Obi-Wan yell; a command more than a suggestion. 

Obi-Wan returned with one of the Polaroid cameras Anakin had seen on a shelf in the darkroom. He looked through the viewfinder, clicking the shutter, spitting out an image of Anakin. His idea was captured on film forever, and Anakin felt his heart race knowing there's a picture of him like _that_ in the world. He did say to photograph him, but he wasn’t expecting it to be taken literally. 

"Beautiful as always," Obi-Wan smiled. He placed the Polaroid amongst the others on the mirror next to his dresser before turning back to Anakin who was already blushing ear to ear.

"Now," Obi-Wan said flatly as he walked back over to the bed. "I'll be taking my camera." He pulled the camera away from Anakin, placing it on the side table and removing the camera strap. He flipped Anakin over into his stomach, much to Anakin's delight, before grabbing his wrists and binding them lightly with the camera strap, making sure they wouldn't injure Anakin's beautiful wrists. "And I'll be taking you too."

Anakin flinched slightly as Obi-Wan’s palm hit his ass, hard. He bit back a moan, grinding down into the mattress a bit, trying to get any sense of friction before he felt Obi-Wan’s hands on his hips, pulling him upwards just a bit. 

“Ass up. On your knees.” Obi-Wan ordered, helping Anakin get into the position with his hands bound. Anakin was still getting used to the different positions, trying to be exactly the way Obi-Wan wanted him the first time rather than being adjusted. 

Obi-Wan ran one of his hands down Anakin’s spine, pushing him into his arch farther before running soothing circles into Anakin’s shoulder. 

“Color, Anakin?” He asked. 

At first, Anakin was confused, unsure of what colors had to do with anything. Then, he remembered their conversation yesterday about how they needed to get a _far_ better system at communication during this. Green meant good, and that’s all Anakin needed to remember right now. 

“Green,” he mumbled out.

“Good boy,” Obi-Wan purred, pushing Anakin’s head into the mattress and dragging his fingers back up his spine. 

Anakin waited in anticipation. He could sneak a look at the mirror just across from them. He’d get punished for it certainly, but maybe, just maybe the punishment would be worth it. Just as he was moving to turn his head he felt Obi-Wan’s hands on his ass, spreading him, and the flat of his warm, wet tongue licking up his crack

“Ah! Ohh- Obi-Wan,” Anakin moaned into the sheets, hands clenching behind his back against his restraints. 

It was intoxicating, the feeling of Obi-Wan’s tongue lapping against his entrance. Anakin was a moaning mess against the blankets, biting some of the fabric to keep from crying in pleasure. Obi-Wan was merciless, face buried in Anakin as he licked at his hole, tongue darting out to fuck into him. 

“Still so loose, so fucked from last night,” Obi-Wan moaned into him.

Anakin couldn’t help from rocking into Obi-Wan’s face, his cock leaking onto the sheets and painfully hard. He tried shifting lower, anything to get friction against his cock, but all it earned him was Obi-Wan pulling back from him, digging his hands into Anakin’s hips and pulling him back up. 

“Don’t you dare,” Obi-Wan said, coming up to hit Anakin’s ass again. “No moving.”

He smirked as he heard Anakin let out a muffled groan into the sheets before burying himself in Anakin’s ass again. Anakin tried his best not to rock back, not to fuck back on his face and take his own pleasure. 

Obi-Wan was digging bruises into the curves of Anakin’s ass, tongue tracing the ring of muscle before darting in, his own cock hard from the sounds of Anakin’s cries, of how his hips would involuntarily twitch, letting Obi-Wan know exactly what he liked. The scrape of Obi-Wan’s beard against his soft skin and the feeling of his tongue fucking him ever so slightly had Anakin keening into the bed, begging to be fucked. 

“I need more, please, Obi-Wan-ah- I’m so so close- Just.”

“No.” Obi-Wan growled into his skin, leaving Anakin again.

“No, please- agh please I’m so close. I need to come-”

“You know,” Obi-Wan smirked, walking towards the doorway. Anakin could see the very apparent bulge in his pajama pants only making him whine into the mattress more. “You interrupted breakfast.”

“Obi-Wan, you _can’t_ be hungry. I’m not even hungry!”

“I know you’re not hungry, dearest. You’re a very different H word.”

Obi-Wan left Anakin on the bed, leaving the door open to make sure if Anakin was truly in distress he’d be able to hear it. Anakin heard Obi-Wan slide out one of his dining chairs and the clink of metal silverware hitting his plate and wooden table. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin moaned, trying to situate himself lower to grind into the bed. 

“You better be staying still in there,” Obi-Wan threatened with what sounded like a mouthful of food. 

Anakin debated in his mind what he wanted: punishment? He knew very well that punishment might mean not getting fucked at all, and with how well this was going, he really didn’t want to be left needing while Obi-Wan did mundane household chores or read a book. He was aching to be filled again, especially after the mouth fucking he just got. 

“You know, your brattiness made breakfast go cold,” Obi-Wan said between Anakin’s begging. 

Cold. Suddenly Anakin had an idea he hoped and pleaded in his brain would work. 

“Please-please come back. Let me warm you. I promise I’ll be good, I swear. I won’t move or anything. I’ll be a good boy just for you,” Anakin cried, hopelessly rutting against the sheets. 

“What was that?”

“I want your cock in me so bad, please, I won’t move or anything. You can eat breakfast and I-”

“You want my cock buried deep in your hole? Keeping me warm while I get to eat? Is that what you want, dearest?”

Anakin’s cock twitched at _dearest_ , never tiring of his pet name. “Yes-yes, please.”

Obi-Wan came back through the door to their bedroom, paying no attention to Anakin being out of position. He knew Anakin was still getting used to playing, so it was enough to excuse just once. Besides, he had just begged so beautifully for something Obi-Wan would have never imagined him wanting. 

“Do you promise to behave?”

“Yes please. I won’t move a muscle. Just, just sit there like a good boy and, and-”

“Ok.”

Obi-Wan helped Anakin stand, giving him time to stretch just a bit but not taking off his restraints. He looked heavenly with his hands behind his back, broad torso pushed outward. So strong and yet so keen to have Obi-Wan take him however he wanted. 

Once Obi-Wan was seated back at the table he slid the waistband of his sweatpants down just enough to get his cock out. He smirked watching Anakin bite his lower lip, seeing the way he practically salivated at the sight. Obi-Wan patted his lap, ushering Anakin to come over.

“Are you sure Anakin?” Anakin just nodded furiously. Obi-Wan held out his hand in front of Anakin’s mouth. “Spit.”

He sucked saliva into his mouth, spitting a pool of it into Obi-Wan’s hand. Anakin watched as he slicked his hard cock with it, getting ready for Anakin. Finally, he ushered Anakin down slowly, aware that the only prep Anakin had was still from last night. 

Anakin’s eyelids fluttered closed as he sank down on Obi-Wan’s length, finally getting what he wanted. The stretch of it burned more than normal, making Anakin’s breath hitch, forcing him to hold back a whine. As he moved back up slightly he heard Obi-Wan tsk at him, a hand coming to pull him back down slightly by the strap around his wrists before sliding around to Anakin’s chest, holding him there. 

“I thought you said you could be good,” Obi-Wan hummed in his ear.

“I’m good I’m sorry I promise-”

“Now, you’re going to stay there until I’m done eating and, if you’re good,” Obi-Wan lowered his voice, “you’ll get what you want.”

Anakin tried his best to be as still as possible, and Obi-Wan’s hand wrapped around his waist was helping just a bit. Not the easiest thing to sit while your hands are bound, but Anakin loved every second of it. 

He could feel how hard Obi-Wan was inside him. Anakin was so full, the feeling blissful for a few moments before he became almost desperate to move, to do something to feel that stretch and pull of Obi-Wan’s cock fucking into him. 

Obi-Wan was almost halfway done, Anakin growing excited to know that he was doing a good job. Obi-Wan would occasionally press a kiss to his arm or his back, whispering that he was doing wonderful. The praise just made Anakin even harder, his cock twitching at every _dearest_ he heard, making him pant more as he waited there, patience being pushed to its limit. 

“Are you hungry, dearest?” Obi-Wan asked Anakin after he ate his late bite.

There was still a piece of fruit sitting on a napkin next to his plate, which to Anakin looked sweet and made his mouth water just thinking about it Anakin nodded his head furiously, his body shifting a bit at the movement forcing him to bite back a moan at the slight movement on Obi-Wan's lap. 

"Do you like apricots?" Obi-Wan asked, watching as Anakin’s eyes followed the fruit as he picked it up. 

“Yes,” Anakin breathed out. 

“Good. Open up,” Obi-Wan smirked, holding the apricot up to Anakin’s mouth for him to bite into.

It was sweet and incredibly juicy. Anakin keened at how cool the juice felt in his mouth even if he was being messy with it. As he continued to eat it, enjoying the sweetness and the soft fruit rolling against his tongue he felt Obi-Wan, who had started to go soft inside him, harden again, causing Anakin to clench down just a bit, a moan escaping from Obi-Wan.

Anakin finally looked down at Obi-Wan after he finished eating half of it, watching his gaze follow the rivulets of juice running down Anakin’s chin, following the planes of his neck before collecting in the dips of his collarbones. He pulled Anakin down onto him more, reaching up to suck the juice off Anakin’s neck and dip his tongue into the pool of it in his collarbone. 

“So sweet, just like you are for me,” Obi-Wan smiled up at Anakin, watching him tilt his head back and grind down into Obi-Wan’s lap. “You think you deserve to get fucked now?”

“Yes, please. I’ve been good.”

“You think you’ve been good? Think you sat on my lap and kept me warm like a good boy? Like a slut?”

Anakin shivered at the word _slut_ , something he hadn’t heard come from Obi-Wan’s mouth yet. He wasn’t sure why he liked it, why he wanted to be called something so obscene, but Obi-Wan absolutely took notice of the way the hairs on Anakin’s arms stood on end

“Dearest. Slut. What else would you like to be called, hmm?”

“Just- mm- just yours. Only yours. Whatever you want to call me so long as I’m yours.”

Obi-Wan’s voice dropped, a low growl in his throat. “You’re _always_ mine. Now get up.”

Anakin obeyed, standing on wobbly legs as Obi-Wan placed a steadying hand on his back before pushing him forward onto the kitchen table, careful to keep him from hitting his head too hard on the wood. 

“And since you’re mine,” Obi-Wan said, stripping himself of his pajamas pants fully before leaning over Anakin’s frame. “I get to use you however I want.”

Anakin wiggled slightly back into Obi-Wan, clenching around the emptiness and desperate for his cock again. He was tired of waiting for his release, of sitting with heat pooled in his lower stomach, tormenting him, with only one person who could possibly give him release stretching out every second of pleasure he could. 

“Color, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked again as he traced the long line of his spine before his hand caught on Anakin’s bindings, holding them. 

“Green please please green.”

Anakin moaned loudly into the room as he felt Obi-Wan sink back inside of him, felt him brush up against that bundle of nerves that sent electricity running across his every nerve. Obi-Wan held the strap around Anakin’s wrists, pulling Anakin back ever so slightly on him, every thrust being matched. It was intoxicating, the feeling of the cold wood of the table against Anakin’s chest as he was fucked mercilessly against it.

“You’re so pretty like this for me, letting me take you out here in the middle of my dining room,” Obi-Wan growled between thrusts. “The curve of your back: your muscles react to every tiny movement of mine. You can never hide your pleasure from me.”

The harsh line of the edge of the table digging into Anakin’s waist slowly turned to pleasure, the leather of the camera strap digging into his wrists slowly drained from his mind. All that Anakin could focus on was Obi-Wan thrusting deep inside of him, angled finally to keep hitting his pleasure point over and over again. 

“Photographed.” Obi-Wan panted out, pushing fast and hard into Anakin, chasing his own release. “Fucked.” His pace was enough to have Anakin coming, each spurt coating Obi-Wan’s floor in white, which was halfway embarrassing in the back of Anakin’s mind. As he shook through his own orgasm he faintly felt Obi-Wan pull out of him before he felt come painting his back, the warm spots bringing Anakin quickly out of his haze. “And painted, like a French boy.”

After a few minutes of nothing but hard breathing in the room, Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s cool fingers against his wrists as he unworked the camera strap from around them. Once his wrists were free Anakin let his hands slump to his sides, blood rushing through sore muscles. 

“Stay there dearest,” Obi-Wan said before returning with a towel to clean them both up.

He rubbed into the sore muscles of Anakin’s shoulders, kissed the faint lines around his wrists, cooing into his skin praises beyond end of how much he loved him. Of how thankful he was for finding Anakin. 

“I love you too,” Anakin mumbled out, finally deciding to stand up again. He was wobbly, unsteady, before Obi-Wan picked him up in his arms and took him back over to their bed. 

Anakin felt warm, loved, cared for laying on Obi-Wan’s chest as he twirled the curls of Anakin’s hair around his finger. Occasionally he would feel Obi-Wan kiss the crown of his head and mumble out something against his hair.

“That wasn’t too much, was it?” Obi-Wan finally asked. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“No, not at all,” Anakin sat up to see Obi-Wan’s face, covered with a hint of worry. “You did nothing wrong, I loved it. I love _you_.”

“I’ve just, we’ve never-”

“Obi…” Anakin started before kissing him softly. “I only want to be yours. Remember? I promise you did nothing wrong and I love you through all of it.” He kissed him again, running his thumb over Obi-Wan’s flushed cheeks. “I’ve been wanting to be tied like that too. I just… didn’t know how to ask for it.”

Obi-Wan smiled, kissing Anakin’s wrists before working up the inside of his forearm, running the pads of his fingers soothingly over the sore skin. He knew he’d have to watch, make sure his muse was ok after everything. Take care of his perfect, exquisite, miraculous love that always gave him too much.

“Lay with me?” Anakin asked, shifting to lay down, looking for Obi-Wan to lay on him this time. 

Obi-Wan smiled before sinking down into their bed, wrapping an arm around Anakin’s side as Anakin languidly drew circles into his shoulders, subtly tracing the lines of his freckles as they danced across his arms. Anakin smiled as he felt Obi-Wan relax, pushing the hair out of his eyes to take one last glance at him before slipping into his own hazy sleep himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titanic didn't come out until WAY after the 70s so excuse my poor excuse for why he'd be saying that. Come shout at me on [ tumblr ](https://xeniaraven.tumblr.com/) about Star Wars or your favorite food or really anything. I also didn't spend as much time in research for this so I apologize if there's something glaringly not 1970s. This was mostly self-indulgent fun.


	3. Of Storms and Skirts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited to add on to this. But also, this happens to be almost 10K long, so I'm sorry for the ridiculous length. Please enjoy!!
> 
> A huge big absolute thank you to cataclysm_dialogue for beta'ing this chapter for me. Her notes were so helpful in making sure I got across the right message. Big love and thank you to you. <3

Anakin finally had a morning in the art studio to himself. A day to sit back and just relax into his own body of work, catch up on all the projects he was behind on. Spring semester had started which meant photography was over, thankfully. He passed due to help from one wonderful boyfriend, and ceramics was now starting up. He always had access to the art studio and potter's wheel at any time, but there was something about the way morning shone across campus that got him up earlier, rushing to the studio. 

Most students didn’t want to be working so early on a Saturday morning either. They were all recovering from whatever wild Friday night occurred just off-campus and wouldn’t be up for at least another few hours. The spring sunrise on the slumber of campus was enough to make anyone feel at peace. 

He sunk his fingers into the clay, feeling the smooth texture of it wrap around his hands as he worked on his technique. It truly didn’t matter what he ended up with today, whether it be an intricate bowl or simple coffee mug. Today was just about relaxing into his work, letting the day slip by and tension fall from his frame. 

Just as he thought he might be finishing up, he took a look at the time. 

“Damnit!” Anakin yelled, trying to clean everything up around him as quickly as possible. 

It was already 1:55 in the afternoon, the day slipping form him until he only had five minutes to get back across campus. He sloppily cleaned up his potter's wheel, knowing he might piss off someone who wants to use it later, tried to get all the clay out from between his fingers, and sprinted out the door, already ten minutes late. 

Obi-Wan was leaning up against the side of his car, as always, a denim jacket slung over his shoulders to keep the chill breeze of Spring away from his chest. Anakin had never seen him without a pair of bell-bottoms too, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to ever stop.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show," Obi-Wan smiled, faking a look at a watch he didn’t wear. "But then again, you and your strange time zone."

"Well you see, I think the world needs to reconsider their timing. It just seems all wrong,” Anakin joked back at him. “But also, I got lost in-”

"Clay. I can tell,” Obi-Wan laughed, trying to rub a smear of dried clay off Anakin’s face before giving him a quick kiss. “Was it productive?”

“Less productive. More stress-relieving.”

“Stress?” Obi-Wan tilted his head at him, coming to settle his hands on Anakin’s hips, pulling him forward to have him stand between his legs. “What’s got you stressed dearest?”

“Ahh, yes. You’re not in college anymore. Midterms.”

“I remember those. That must be why everyone on campus seems so, what’s the term… not  _ chillaxed _ .”

“Please never say that again,” Anakin laughed, pressing his forehead against Obi-Wan’s as they let the air between them fill with joy for a few moments. “So what’s the plan for today? All you told me was a photoshoot and, of course, I look like this.”

“You look beautiful as ever,” Obi-Wan kissed him again, slower this time, hoping to let the words sink in. “I was hoping you knew someone who I could entrust to give you a little makeover.”

“That would absolutely be Padme but, makeup? Obi-Wan that’s a bit out there, even for you.”

“I know. If it’s any consultation, this wasn’t entirely my plan. There’s a magnificent storm coming in and I think it would make a beautiful backdrop to my idea.”

“Which is?” Anakin laughed, pulling back from Obi-Wan to swing their arms back and forth as they held hands.

“Bodies. You know, my portfolio. They’re more than just physical. They’re emotional, mental, spiritual. And I was hoping you’d let me work on the aspects of femininity and masculinity. But through artistic representation.”

“So you want to make me look like a girl?”

“No Anakin. Having feminine traits and being a girl are two different things. You know this.”

Anakin sighed, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. He hadn’t told Obi-Wan about how much he liked Padme’s little days where she’d try new palettes out on Anakin’s skin to avoid irritating her own skin. How much he enjoyed the feeling of the powder against his eyelids, and how some days, just on occasion, he wished that he could wear a light blush. It was fun. But was he really ready to admit that?

Then again, he didn't have to admit it. He could do it just this once for the shoot and call it a day. Never own up to it. But he knew it would be a lie, he’d be hiding a part of himself from Obi-Wan that he actually wanted to embrace. He didn’t want a lot, but makeup didn’t have to be gender exclusive, did it?

“Alright, let’s go," Anakin smiled shyly, tugging Obi-Wan's hand and pulling him away from his car. "Follow me. Her dorm is just a short walk."

* * *

Padme was always deep into books on political theory or head hung over her assignments for the week. The woman knew how to have fun, but if it wasn't originally scheduled she was filling her other free time with studies. Given that it was midterms, she filled her schedule to the brim with studies, leaving very little time for anything else. And heaven forbid you tried to interrupt that woman when she was in the middle of a frustrating paper proving a point she shouldn’t have to be proving to a male professor in the first place.

"Padme!" Anakin yelled through his distinct knock on her door. 

"Anakin not now! I'm studying."

"But I brought a friend!"

"Anakin, if she’s busy, truly we shouldn't," Obi-Wan said, trying to turn to leave. 

"Rex isn't the company I'm looking for either!" Padme grunted out, her annoyance coming through the wooden door crystal clear. "He's worse than you some days."

"It's not Rex. I really think-"

"Padme, I apologize for the intrusion," Obi-Wan interrupted, face wincing in embarrassment before turning to a scowl at Anakin. 

"Wait, Anakin who…"

"Kenobi. Obi-Wan. He needs a favor from you. Well, technically we both do."

Anakin could hear the tell-tale scurrying of Padme quickly picking up her dorm before the doorknob turned, whipping open in a fury. 

"Oh. My. God."

"I apologize for dropping in like this. Anakin dragged me all the way-"

"Oh absolutely no problem Obi-Wan. Not one problem at all, come on in. Sit anywhere you like doesn't matter,” she desperately tried to straighten the creases of the comforter on her bed before turning and giving Anakin the death glare. “Anakin. Hallway."

Anakin was pulled out by Padme's harsh grip on his wrist, her nails digging into his skin. She shut the door, most likely more aggressive than she had meant to, leaving Obi-Wan alone in her dorm. 

"You could have told me  _ he _ was coming," Padme said between gritted teeth. "I would have at least looked presentable!"

"I'm sorry I wasn't thinking. I should've given you a ring before-"

"Yes. Next time you want to bring your gorgeous, hot as sex itself photographer boyfriend over  _ please _ let me know first."

When they both came back into the room it was to the sight of Obi-Wan sitting awkwardly on the corner of Padme's bed, fidgeting with his cuticles. In the back of Anakin's mind he knew he probably heard everything from just outside the door but was too polite to say anything. 

"So, Obi-Wan, what can I help you with?" Padme started.

"Anakin here says you're fantastic with makeup. Is that correct?"

"Ah, yeah you could say so. I can probably do what you're thinking of having done." Padme opened up a few drawers from next to her bed, pulling out bag after bag of what Anakin knew was her makeup stash. 

"I was hoping we could maybe try golds and purples? The field we're going to is filled with black-eyed susans and these tiny purple wildflowers, not to mention the complementary blues and whites scattered about. And I'm hoping to get there before the storm blows in for the deep navy color behind him."

"Oohh," Padme perked up, grabbing her desk chair and motioning for Anakin to sit down. "I think I have this marigold that would work well. And how do you feel-"

"Padmé?" Obi-Wan asked as she fiddled through each bag. "What's this?"

Obi-Wan pulled on a sheer golden sleeve with purple, embroidered flowers that was sticking out from Padme's closed closet door. He rubbed his thumb over the material, feeling each stitch that had been made to create each vine and flower on its surface. 

"Isn't that-" Anakin started to question. 

"Yes. So the story is my freshman year I got invited out to this sorority event with a friend. She said it was the fall ball, and I thought formal so I went out and bought that! Thought it was gorgeous and it was for sure fit for a ball. Well, I guess formal to them means something a bit on the  _ shorter _ side. And fall ball is just a party."

"Padme, why in the hell did you bring it back for the fourth year in a row?" Anakin asked as Padme started laying different products in his lap. "That night traumatized you and had you swear off Greek life."

"It's still pretty Anakin!" Padme started putting small dabs of liquid on Anakin's face. It was cool against his skin, making him retract just a bit before Padme grabbed his chin to keep him still. 

"May I pull it out?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yeah sure, whatever you want I don't care. Even if you ruin that one I won't be entirely upset about it."

Anakin watched through the corner of his eyes as Obi-Wan pulled out the dress he had only seen once before in a flurry of panic as Padme ran out the door. It really was beautiful. The straps and shawl were stunning the way they flowed from the hanger it sat on. The dress itself was made of the same sheer fabric but with tiny white stars dotted all across it. Barely visible lines connected each star in the most beautiful constellations. Whoever had made this dress put a lot of handiwork into it. 

"There's a matching corset too," Padme said as she started dusting blush across Anakin's cheeks. "Look on the top shelf there should be a little black box."

Obi-Wan reached and pulled down the box, revealing a corset in the same color as the shawl, the same embroidered flowers dusting across it. The only difference was the orange and yellow patches that sprinkled across the chest like a fiery sunset.

"Obi-Wan you're not thinking…" Anakin trailed off, causing Padme to pause her application

"Actually, I am."

"Hold on. The makeup was one thing, but a  _ corset _ ? You’re going to have to explain far more. This feels like more than femininity.”

"Of course," Obi-Wan laughed, still running his hands over the fabric. "So bodies, human form. You remember that correct?"

"Yes. Focusing on the human form. Got that."

"Well, I was thinking about how the human body elicits things that are far more than external. We speak, we feel emotion, we create logical thought. We have personality traits. Creatures of both external need and internal carnal desire."

"By that logic I should be in my mechanics uniform then. Not sitting here letting Padme paint me like a clown."

"Hey!" Padme jabbed the end of her makeup brush into Anakin's stomach. "You will  _ not _ look like a clown."

"Technically if I wanted to play up stereotypical presentations of male and female, yes Anakin, you'd be in your uniform. But men can be feminine and women can be masculine. These traits do not necessarily have to align with your gender. Makeup  _ and _ clothing are representations of that."

"Uhmm, yeah, sure but how do you know it's going to come across that way. There's this thing called a crossdresser and I'm not about to be labeled that by accident. Again, makeup is one thing, a  _ dress _ and  _ corset _ is another.”

"Anakin if anyone dares to offend you or hurt you they'll have to go through me first.”

“Yeah but you’re famous  _ and _ out. I’m not even really out to anyone except my friend group here. There’s a big difference there.”

Anakin wanted desperately to be out to more than just his friend group. But being bisexual right now was seen as more of a phase than anything, and Anakin didn’t want to have to explain against the culture that is was more than that. Even worse, he liked the idea of the dress. He liked the idea of flowy fabrics and something pretty to wear for just one day. Just once. Nothing major, nothing crazy, but maybe, just maybe, for one photoshoot he could see if he liked it more than just an imagined fascination with it. 

“Oh I’m not out to the photography community,” Obi-Wan chuckled, pulling Anakin out of his thoughts. “Though I’d be surprised if some people are so oblivious that they can’t put all the puzzle pieces together.”

“Wh-what? How?” Anakin sputtered out. 

“Turns out you can blame an extraordinary amount of things on  _ creative choice _ .”

Anakin smiled only to get a glare from Padme. He wasn’t entirely sure of their conversation that they picked up slowly after, asking about different makeup choices and Obi-Wan directing where he wanted this eye powder stuff to go. Eventually his head was getting moved this way and that for Padme to manipulate everything. Even after all the times Anakin had to sit through Padme’s little makeup sessions, he still freaked out every time that black spoolie wand came out of the bottle to paint his eyelashes. 

As Padme worked her magic Anakin pondered even more. Was it so bad to want these things? Was it so out of the ordinary to wish that he could be more than what society told him? They were living in an age where personal expression was more prevalent than ever, so why was he so nervous? Obi-Wan loved him. Padme loved him. Rex. Ahsoka. His own mother. Aren’t those the only people who truly mattered?

“No, no eyeliner,” Obi-Wan said, loud enough for Anakin to come back to their conversation. “Just a fleck of gold in the corner and it’ll be done.”

“I like it,” Padme smiled, standing back next to Obi-Wan to see her work. Obi-Wan came up next to Anakin to drape the shawl from Padme’s dress across his shoulder. “I think it works.”

“Me too. The light purple eyeshadow is beautiful, and the blush adds a nice touch. One quick thought though.”

“More gold?” Padme asked, digging through her bag again.

“Yeah but, can we put gold in his scar? I think it would-”

“No no no,” Anakin said, standing, letting the shawl fall from his shoulders. “You’re not accenting my scar. That’s a non-negotiable. Hard boundary.”

“Would it help if-” Padme started before Anakin interrupted again, his temper flaring.

“Absolutely not. We are not making my scar stand out more than necessary. Understood?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said calmly, sending a look to Padme to stop. “I apologize. I didn’t know it was such a difficult topic. I’ll remember to keep from it. Thank you for telling me Anakin.”

Obi-Wan came to set a calming hand on his shoulder before moving it to the side of his neck, rubbing his thumb over Anakin’s jaw, just below his ear. It was a spot he knew Anakin loved, and it would calm him easier having physical contact. 

“Thank you,” Anakin took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. “I just…”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Obi-Wan reached out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Anakin’s ears. “But I would love it if you came and took a look at yourself in the mirror.”

Anakin walked alongside Obi-Wan, turning to look at himself in the floor-length mirror Padme had set up for her elaborate outfit compositions. Sometimes Anakin wondered how she even thought up half of what she wore, but if it made her happy, then he was happy.

He felt Obi-Wan’s hand come to rest on the small of his back, running small circles over the fabric of his sweater as he approached the mirror. Padme had done a beautiful job with everything: the blush sitting high enough on his cheekbones that it accented the small line there. The faint outlines of his freckles were more pronounced with just the hint of color. The same deep purple of the flower embroidery danced across his eyelids and blended out to the most beautiful lilac and lavender, as if the entire spectrum of purple had somehow made its way onto his eyes. Underneath is where Padme had placed the deep gold, letting it sit just between the junction of his lower lashline and where his eyelashes dipped down to touch his delicate skin. 

“Honestly, I wish I had your eyelashes. They’re  _ so _ long!” Padme said, coming to Anakin’s other side and hugging his arm. “So what do you think?”

“It’s different,” Anakin started. “I don’t wear makeup. But it’s not alarming. I don’t hate it. Just… different.”

“That’s better than being revolted by it so I take that as a win,” Padme beamed. “Now, take this and get going, you two! Storms move quickly and you two aren’t moving fast enough.”

“Wait I am not wearing that across-”

“No,” Obi-Wan said, taking the dress carefully from Padme, folding it up into a neat pile and holding it against his chest. “I’m not into humiliation, so we can get dressed at the field.”

Anakin wondered why Obi-Wan had chosen  _ not into _ , since humiliation wasn’t anything he was aware that people liked, but before he even had time to understand the inference behind it all Obi-Wan intertwined his fingers through Anakin’s and pulled him out the door and back to his car. 

Halfway back to his car Anakin really noticed the way Obi-Wan’s hand felt in his: the calloused pad of his finger from turning the different wheels on his camera. A small scar he could feel underneath his thumb on top of Obi-Wan’s hand. That Obi-Wan’s fingers were shorter than his own, but less boney. Anakin’s were all long and graceful, but not Obi-Wan’s. Anakin even blushed slightly, noticing that they were thicker, if that was something he was even supposed to notice about a person. 

The drive to the field was easy enough, the rising storm clouds off on the horizon as a warning. Anakin watched the way they grew with every second that went by: a glorious storm ready to pour on some unforgiving subject. And if Obi-Wan had his way, the unforgiving subject would be their town today just so he could get the perfect shot. For Anakin, the way the clouds built so quickly in the distance was mesmerizing: the way the cloud elicited emotions even if it was just water vapor. 

This storm so far was full of rage. Someone out there had screamed or wailed or was filled with fury enough to trigger the rolling booms of thunder that could be heard even from miles away. There was nothing in existence that could calm her cries for mercy and vengeance. It was a shock against the beautiful life of the field: a deep shelf cloud so horrifying Anakin felt the flowers tremble from it rather than the breeze fluttering through. 

“The storm won’t hit us,” Obi-Wan said to calm both himself and Anakin. “It’s supposed to graze just the side of town. We might get a little sputter of rain but nothing to run inside for.”

“Bummer we don’t have the shack,” Anakin smirked. 

Obi-Wan grabbed Padme’s dress out of the trunk along with a pillow for Anakin to sit on if he wanted. A flutter played across Anakin’s heart, and a bit lower, as he remembered just what happened the last time they brought those out. Still something told him that being strung up in a corset wasn’t going to exactly equate to foreplay at all. 

Anakin slipped into Padme’s sheer stars underdress easily. It wasn’t very soft, even if it looked like it, and was actually a bit scratchy against his skin. But the way the fabric shone, draped, and fluttered around his ankles had him spinning in a circle, smiling at the world. 

“Come on Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, Anakin able to hear his amusement through the way he said his name. “Corset.”

“Do we have to?”

“Yes. I promise I won’t tie it too tight.”

That was a lie. Anakin wasn’t used to being caged into something, especially not a corset. Thankfully, there was very little boning around it, so it wasn’t as if there were metal rods rubbing against his ribcage, even if they were encased in fabric. There wasn’t a mirror or anything for him to look at himself, but the awe on Obi-Wan’s face once Anakin turned around, everything fitted the way Obi-Wan wanted it to sit on him, was enough to tell him that he was once again a work of art. 

Obi-Wan fastened the embroidered shawl around Anakin’s shoulders, making sure that the small straps of it sat smoothly before pressing a quick kiss to Anakin’s forehead. He took one final step back to look at Anakin, the sunlight glittering off every breeze that moved the fabric. 

“One last thing,” Obi-Wan said, mischief sitting just behind his lips, on the tip of his tongue. 

He came over to Anakin again and ruffed up his hair, shaking the curls out wildly in the air until Anakin looked like he had just woken up. 

“What was that for?!”

“Can’t have you looking too stunning on me,” Obi-Wan laughed over his shoulder as he dug his camera out of his bag. “Padme might get jealous that you look better than her.”

“I do not!”

“Let’s judge that when the photos are done.”

“I just… I don’t understand how you’re  _ still _ attracted to me even in all this,” Anakin motioned to himself, letting out a defeated sigh.

It was one of the many reasons he never decided to try an outfit out for himself on campus. Anakin was already so, well, Anakin. Anything else he did would just make it worse. 

“What you’re wearing doesn’t entirely matter, especially considering this is art. But Anakin, dear, light of my life, my muse, I would love you no matter what. There are no asterisks or ‘terms and conditions’ on my love for you. Just be you. And Anakin, if you don’t want to do this you can say no.”

“I want to help you make your portfolio dreams a reality. And you can’t do that if-”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said sternly. “I can figure out my portfolio and my ideas some other way. I will not sacrifice your comfort for my own artistic gain. That would be unethical of me”

Anakin wrinkled the fabric of the dress between his fingers, feeling the bumps of each portion of the embroidery as he pulled it against his skin. He wanted to make Obi-Wan happy. He wanted to make his dreams come true and felt that he was contributing to the world somehow. The one picture he had seen of himself was beautiful, perhaps more than even Obi-Wan’s poetic musings could have described it to be. He found confidence in himself through one single black and white photograph. 

But at the same time, this would be him. His face, his body, himself. He couldn't hide himself from it or claim that the body on display was someone else’s. Part of the idea scared him, but he couldn’t deny that he also liked the way he currently felt in the dress. It was freeing. Nice. He felt pretty in a way he’d never experienced before.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, softer this time, almost a whisper as he came to stand in front of him, wrapping his hand delicately against the side of Anakin’s neck again. “This is about you and your comfort level. You inspired more out of me, but that does not give me the right to force you into going through with anything.”

“Maybe, can we maybe take the pictures and then I can see them when they’re developed?” Anakin scrunched his mouth together, shoulders slumped forward, worried at Obi-Wan’s response. “I can’t really see what I look like here, but maybe all posed with the sweet storm, maybe I’ll like it.”

“Of course! Absolutely. You have every right to see your photos before I do anything with them. I might have a few things to encourage you,” Obi-Wan kissed the tip of Anakin’s nose. “But that doesn’t mean I’d show others something you’re not okay with.”

Anakin nodded, smiling into the space between them before Obi-Wan grabbed his hand, giving him a small twirl in the dress. “Go grab the pillow and position yourself comfortably out in the clearing over there. I’m gonna pop a cassette in. Any preferences?”

“Just something pretty,” Anakin said softly. 

His bare feet against the grass and wildflowers felt so wonderful. He felt like as much of a flower child as ever out here, his toes digging into the dirt, the electric charge of the air. It was such a wonderful feeling: sunlight still able to drip over his golden skin and knowing that just outside of reach was something so dangerous he should be frightened. 

But he wasn’t. 

Obi-Wan would never put him in danger. Would never harm him or press him or push him into something he couldn’t do. While he might encourage something new when Anakin got stuck in his ways, he knew it was out of admiration and not malice. 

He positioned the pillows on the ground to lay across, trying to find a good spot that had enough wildflowers around for Obi-Wan’s liking, while also trying to avoid the tall stems and long grass that would block out the background. Anakin had watched Obi-Wan nitpick over spots and lighting before that he practically knew the unspoken checklist by heart. 

“Perfect,” Obi-Wan huffed out happily as he jogged back to Anakin, camera bag in hand and Minolta swung across his shoulder. “Comfortable here?”

“I think as comfortable as I’m going to get,” Anakin shifted again, pulling the pillows a bit more under him to try and fit a bit of relief from the hard ground. Sure, he’d been on the hard ground before, but the same kind of adrenaline wasn’t coursing through his veins right now. 

“May I reposition you?” Obi-Wan flipped around after adjusting what he’d need and pulling it out of his camera bag.

“This trick again?” Anakin laughed, a dare settling across his features.

“Well, dearest, it seemed to work so well last time,” Obi-Wan made his way over to him, towering over Anakin’s sitting frame. “But no. Not now. Maybe later.”

Obi-Wan sank down to the ground next to Anakin, pulling out the layers from the dress and draping it across the ground in front of him. He kept pulling at the sheer fabric until it looked like a wave of stars, a sea of them, backlit by dawn’s sunlight, was pooling across the ground. Anakin’s hand was pulled to lay gently across his thigh, while he leaned back against the other. He kept adjusting the shawl, making sure it sat correctly on Anakin’s shoulders and didn’t block too much of the embroidery on the corset. 

“Stunning as ever. Yellow looks so lovely against your skin. And the corset just, it pulls your waist in just enough. You’re always beautiful, but seeing you like this, I dare say you’re ravishing.”

“Obi-Wan you  _ know  _ that praise-”

“Oh darling I absolutely know,” Obi-Wan smirked, pulling a long kiss from Anakin before pulling back. “Just means I won’t stop unless you tell me to.”

Anakin was silent, a blush forming across his cheeks from more than the makeup. Oh this man was going to be the end of him. But what he wouldn’t give to feel as charged, ignited, and electrified as the storm behind them. Feeling the graze of Obi-Wan’s fingers sending volts of pleasure across him at each point on his body.

Faintly, he heard the click of the camera’s shutter as Obi-Wan moved around Anakin, finding different angles that captured the fading sunlight and roll of the clouds better. He also kept hearing the praise roll from Obi-Wan’s mouth. The man knew how to get him bothered quickly, that was for sure. 

He wasn’t  _ always _ like this during their photoshoots. It had to have been the dress, the new way Anakin was slowly revealing himself to Obi-Wan. 

After a bit more repositioning and the storm slowly rolling closer, Obi-Wan finally called the last pose. 

“Now can you kneel for me? Just, legs apart, posture straight like you’re a queen-”

“I am a queen-”

“Like the queen you are. Chin up. Gorgeous.”

Anakin looked down quickly to see the not so subtle outline of his erection against the fabric of the dress and panicked just slightly. 

“Don't worry Anakin,” Obi-Wan smiled as he positioned himself on the ground, looking up at Anakin and seeing the slight panic. “I’m shooting you from the waist up. Though I must say, my view is more preferable.”

As Anakin continued to look down at the camera, chin up high as Obi-Wan had asked him to pose, looking down the bridge of his nose, a sense of confidence roared to life inside of him. Obi-Wan’s praises only spurred him on all afternoon, his posture, his height, his sense of  _ being _ above Obi-Wan pushed him to try something different. He wouldn’t kneel here any longer, teased by a flutter light voice dripping in flattery. 

He had seen girls do this before. Jokingly sometimes. Not so jokingly other times. Kneeling, he moved to crawl over Obi-Wan slowly, moving up his legs, torso, chest, until the dress came to cover his head, the fabric covering all of his face. 

Anakin smirked a bit once the camera rolled from Obi-Wan’s hands, trying to keep from feeling embarrassed, until he felt Obi-Wan kissing up the sides of his thighs, biting into the skin there. Until his wet mouth came to suck around the outline of Anakin’s cock in his briefs. Hands came to rub up the inside of his thighs, fingers skimming their way under the waistband and pulling down slightly, just enough to get Anakin’s cock free. 

It was intoxicating, not being able to see Obi-Wan and yet feeling him everywhere. Anakin was already relaxing into it, tilting his head back and hearing the distant sound of rain from somewhere across the field. The chill of the air sent shivers up his back. Another round of them followed as he felt Obi-Wan lick a line up his cock, tip of his tongue coming to swirl around the ring of the head. 

Slowly, Anakin gathered the fabric of the skirt up in his hands, waiting until he could see Obi-Wan’s face again and the length of his cock sitting so pretty against his cheek. The tip of his own cock as pink as the blush across Obi-Wan’s cheek as he lay there, staring up at him, as if he was something to be worshiped and devoured at the same time. 

Anakin shifted off of him, working to free himself from his briefs, before coming to settle on Obi-Wan’s face again, the tip of his cock resting just barely against his lips. He held the fabric of the skirt in both of his hands at his hips, watching, waiting for Obi-Wan. 

“So filthy. Is this what you’ve wanted all along? Ride my face? Push your cock into my mouth as I take it. Is that what you dream of at night my  _ dearest _ Anakin?”

He had no words, just a pathetic little moan at feeling Obi-Wan’s lips graze subtly over the head of his cock as he spoke, the fluttering exhale of his breath making it twitch.

“Tell me Anakin. Use your words,” Obi-Wan smirked, watching how Anakin’s chest was heaving under the corset. Already he was intoxicating and they had barely done anything. 

“Yes. Please. I- I wanna watch you. I wanna fuck into your mouth I-”

It was enough to get Obi-Wan to wrap his lips around Anakin’s beautiful, flushed cock. To hollow out his cheeks and twist his tongue around the tip in every way he knew Anakin craved. He pulled his head up just slightly to take more of him into his mouth, tasting the salty precome from Anakin drip against his tongue. 

Obi-Wan brought his hands up to Anakin’s, taking the bunched up fabric of stars from his hands as Anakin moved to grab Obi-Wan’s hair. Obi-Wan snaked the fabric back further, coming to grab just under Anakin’s ass and pull him forward, showing him he could fuck into Obi-Wan’s mouth as much as he liked. 

The encouragement was all Anakin needed. 

Anakin thrust slowly into Obi-Wan’s mouth, feeling how far Obi-Wan would allow him to go. It was new to him, but the excitement, the thrill, of taking control for one moment of his pleasure sent the electric charge of the storm scurrying up the patches of his bare skin. 

It was obscene, the sight of Obi-Wan below him, taking as much of Anakin’s cock into his mouth as he could. Anakin could feel himself hit the back of Obi-Wan’s throat and moaned at the feeling of him gagging. His mouth was wet, warm, slick enough for Anakin to find himself happily thrusting in. 

The sight of Obi-Wan staring at him, holding eye contact with Anakin as he gripped roughly at Anakin’s ass, hollowed his cheeks, pushed Anakin closer to his edge far quicker than he expected. He’d never been like this with Obi-Wan, and a deep part of him liked it. But quickly, before he spilled into Obi-Wan’s mouth, he pulled out, hoping to catch his breath. 

Obi-Wan had far different plans though. He shifted himself just underneath Anakin, licking his tongue over his balls and sucking them into his mouth. It earned him a gasp and high-pitched whine from Anakin who was unused to the sensation. He clutched at the top edge of the corset, trying to find something to hold on to as Obi-Wan moved even lower, dragging his tongue against the sensitive skin as he moved further, just inches from Anakin’s hole. Just as Anakin was finally, finally, going to feel Obi-Wan’s mouth against his ass, Obi-Wan wrapped his hands around Anakin’s hips and pulled him down to sit on his chest, letting the fabric of the dress pool back down and cover his legs. 

“Now now,” Obi-Wan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, staring up at Anakin and shifting him slowly down his body as he came to sit up. “You’re so needy. But how dare you think you can take like that.”

Anakin bit his lip, whining as Obi-Wan slowly raised himself up, placing Anakin in his lap, until they were back at eye level. He teased a hand over the fabric of the dress, over the outline of Anakin’s cock, as he spoke between heated kisses, tongues dipping in to mold against each other.

“Was it fun dearest? Taking control?” Obi-Wan panted out. “Being over me and fucking into me like that?”

Anakin only nodded, trying to keep his breathing steady at the infuriating sensation of the fabric against him, the way his nipples were hard and ever so gently brushing against the fabric of the corset. “Yes. I- I liked it. It was fun watching you take it over and over. Watching you drool over- over my cock.”

“Good. But I can’t just  _ reward _ that kind of behavior now can I?” Obi-Wan moved his hands up Anakin’s arms, underneath the shawl to unclip it from his shoulders, letting the delicate fabric fall behind him. He kissed down Anakin’s neck, to the dips of his collarbones, over the chilled and damp skin of his pectoral, to the very top of where the corset sat. “All fours. Now.”

Anakin moved off Obi-Wan’s lap with a smile across his face. Finally, he’d be getting what he wanted. He waited on all fours, trying to pull the fabric of the dress out from under his knees to keep from accidentally ripping it. He could hear the tell-tale signs of Obi-Wan digging through his camera bag for the bottle of lube he stashed there. Anakin had yet to figure out what  _ other _ uses it had besides just being resourceful when they wanted to fuck. 

Obi-Wan came to the front of Anakin, tucking a hand under his chin and pulling Anakin up to look at him. He came close to his face, one quick kiss, before asking for a color and receiving green in response. 

“Thank you Anakin,” Obi-Wan kissed him long and hard again, until Anakin was again a panting mess. “Now, for your little game you wanted to play. No coming until I say so. You’ll have to beg for it.”

Anakin nodded furiously, mumbling out a symphony of  _ green, yes, yes I promise, I’ll be so good _ as Obi-Wan came behind him. He felt Obi-Wan’s hands run up his thighs, the hem of the dress working up with them, until it was bunched over Anakin’s hips, a cascade of fabric. 

Obi-Wan dug his fingers roughly into Anakin’s ass before coming down and biting lightly, Anakin moaning out at the feeling. Just to tease a moment more, Obi-Wan worked his way down Anakin’s thighs, a trail of sloppy kisses down one, before shifting up the other. 

“ _ Please _ , Obi-Wan-” Anakin choked out, trying to push further back against Obi-Wan and receiving a light smack against his ass. It only made him try harder, to get Obi-Wan exactly where he wanted him. 

“Patience Anakin. Truly you need to work on that,” Obi-Wan laughed into his skin. “I’ll have to test you on it one day.”

Anakin never did find a shred of patience, pushing back towards Obi-Wan with each slow kiss, until finally, Obi-Wan wrapped a hand around his hips, pushing the fabric back, and grabbing Anakin’s cock. He was still achingly hard, the weight of it heavy and warm in Obi-Wan’s hand as he slowly, tantalizingly, pumped Anakin, earning tiny little pants and sighs at the feeling. 

“ _ Obi-Wan _ ” Anakin moaned out as a plea, rocking forward into his hand now for any sort of friction. Anything. Anakin wasn’t even entirely sure what that anything was, so long as Obi-Wan’s skin was on his. 

Finally, Anakin heard a familiar pop, a small whine escaping as he knew exactly what was coming. His heartbeat frantically waiting. Everything came down to the pinpoints of sound from Obi-Wan behind him, the feeling of his hand slowly working his cock, and-

“Ah, fuck,” Anakin moaned out as he felt Obi-Wan’s finger teasing at his hole, running the tip of his finger over and around the muscle slowly.

“I think you’ve been patient long enough love,” Obi-Wan whispered against the skin of his lower back as he kissed there, pushing his finger in. 

Anakin always loved it, the feeling of slowly being stretched, of knowing Obi-Wan would work his fingers in him until he was loose and ready to take all of him. He was always made to take it, to please and be pleased, give pleasure and take it. It was riveting, the knowledge that only Obi-Wan could make him feel this way, and only Anakin could give him  _ exactly _ what he wanted. 

Obi-Wan pressed another finger in, feeling Anakin tense for a second. “Relax dearest.” He kept kissing the skin of his lower back, enjoying how Anakin took his fingers. The clench of muscle as he hit that bundle of nerves he could find blind at this point, scissoring his fingers back and forth, spreading them apart, just to get every whine and beg out of Anakin’s mouth possible. And Anakin was always keen to beg and plead for more, more,  _ more.  _

“Such a beautiful boy. So pretty for me. Laid out in your dress and begging,” Obi-Wan nudged Anakin’s knees a bit further apart, spreading him wider. He grabbed a fistful of the skirt, pulling Anakin back onto his fingers with it, careful not to let the fabric rip. “Such a pretty thing Anakin is in his star-streaked skirt. So pretty letting me ruin his makeup.”

_Pretty_. _Dress_. _Skirt._ _Makeup_. Anakin slowly became incredibly aware of what he was wearing, in a far different way than previously. It started hitting him faster, the scratch of the dress, the tightness of the corset, the mascara sticking his eyelashes together, the blotting of foundation on his skin. 

_ Obi-Wan only loves me when I’m pretty. Obi-Wan only wants me when I’m pretty. Obi-Wan doesn’t want me. Obi-Wan doesn’t. He doesn't. Only with makeup. Not Anakin. Only pretty. Only feminine. Not menotmenotme _

It was a hard spiral, the kind that took Anakin so far out of himself that he couldn’t even feel Obi-Wan anymore. Couldn’t feel his hands, his kiss, his fingers. Couldn’t hear a single word that was being uttered in praise or concern. He was so far into himself, into his mind, he couldn’t tell if Obi-Wan stopped, continued, spoke to him to get him out, until finally Anakin remembered. In the deepest corner of his mind he remembered. 

“Red-” He spoke too quietly, getting caught in his throat. “Red. Stop. Red. Obi-Wan.”

Anakin didn’t know how it happened but when he opened his eyes back up Obi-Wan was in front of him, sitting cross-legged on the ground and trying to get Anakin to look at him. He was pulling Anakin to him, trying to get him to sit up, to get off all fours and sit. Anakin could only faintly hear Obi-Wan asking what was wrong before opting to just try and get him to relax. 

Slowly, the sound came back, the feeling of Obi-Wan’s hands on his face, the soft pad of his thumbs framing Anakin’s face. Obi-Wan’s features were drowning in worry. 

“Anakin. Anakin. Dearest.” Obi-Wan kept repeating. He drew out  _ dearest _ , as if the word could reach him if he just held on to letters a little bit longer. 

“I’m sorry,” Anakin croaked out, coming back into himself. All he wanted at this moment was to be as physically close to Obi-Wan as possible. He shifted, moved himself to sit in Obi-Wan’s lap, to crawl into the safety that was  _ him _ and wrap his legs around his waist. To sit in the smell of his cologne and let Obi-Wan rub his back and kiss his hair. 

“You never have to apologize Anakin. Never,” Obi-Wan whispered into the curls of his hair, the softness of the crown of his head grounding Obi-Wan that he was ok. 

They stayed there for a minute, perhaps two, as Anakin calmed down, before he pulled himself away just enough to look up at Obi-Wan, slipping his hand underneath Obi-Wan’s button down to place it over his heart. 

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan started cautiously. “I didn’t do anything different this time? What- what did…”

“It was nothing you did Obi-Wan. I just.. The dress? I thought you- you’d only love me… But I, I initiated and I’m so stupid for stopping when I started it and it’s not your fault and I should have-”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan framed Anakin’s face, “Don’t leave into that mind of yours. Stay here love. Stay here.”

He waited again for Anakin to calm, to reach out to him again and lay his hand across Obi-Wan’s forearm, grounding himself in touch again. 

“Dearest,” Obi-Wan started again. “I love  _ you _ . Dress, makeup, none of that matters to me. Is it hot to see you in something different? Absolutely. But not at the expense of you feeling insecure.”

“No. I… I like dresses. Soft things. Pretty things. I just get worried that…”

“That I’d only love this part of you? If you looked less rough and more refined?” Obi-Wan finished when it seemed Anakin couldn’t find the words. Anakin nodded in affirmation at it, himself unable to truly say yes to it. “Oh Anakin I love all parts of you. Always. Thank you for sharing with me that you like dressing like this. You can always wear whatever you’d like around me. That doesn't mean I will only love you one way. I love Anakin Skywalker, no matter how he decides to dress or present himself in the morning.”

It took Anakin a second, a second that stretched itself around the sun that was Obi-Wan’s presence and settled back into himself, before he carefully leaned down to kiss Obi-Wan again. Soft, tender, savoring every microscopic point of his lips against his lover’s. The faintest recollections of lunch time tea and dollops of honey perched on the edge of his lips spilled into Anakin’s senses. The scratch of his beard on his face and the faint woodsy scent of his beard oil creeping up behind the taste of him. 

Obi-Wan waited, let Anakin kiss him until Anakin moved to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan, one hand at the back of his neck. It was a sign, a little signal, that Anakin wanted Obi-Wan to reciprocate, to kiss him back with as much fervor as Anakin was giving. So he did. He wrapped his hands around the small of Anakin’s back and pulled him in, tilting his head up and leaning into Anakin’s kiss. 

They were film chemicals mixing together, pressed and pulled, as they combined into one total image. One singular point of two men wanting to confess every feeling of  _ you. Just you _ . as physically possible but only finding the soft caresses of hands and small gasps between each other to communicate with. Slowly and deliberately Obi-Wan unlaced the back of Anakin’s corset, pulling the strings to loosen it before separating their kiss, pulling it up over Anakin’s head.

Obi-Wan looked over all of Anakin. The way the dress accented his collarbones. The way his skin, so lightly tanned and dewy with sweat, has held love marks and bites of Obi-Wan’s desires. The way Anakin’s skin had been touched, caressed, loved, discovered by his fingertips and palms over and over again. The rise and fall of a chest whose breathing he had accelerated and calmed plenty of times. The way he knew it filled him with oxygen and kept him alive, kept that wonderful heart beating inside of his chest, to continue beating in time with Obi-Wan’s. 

“You’re… Anakin. Just…”

Anakin smiled at finding Obi-Wan, the wordsmith of praises and confidence king, sapped dry of words. Fumbling to find the right way to describe the sight in front of him. It lifted Anakin back into himself, back into knowing that he was loved as  _ him _ , no matter his appearance or faults. Obi-Wan loved him truly, fully, and without limitation. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin breathed out, coming to kiss him again, to pull himself against him as tight as possible. 

The world cried at the sight of them, and the beauty of young love in the Spring air. Slowly, small drops of rain hit Anakin’s curls, following the twists and turns of them until the water was pooling onto his shoulders and down his back. As they kissed, rain ran between their faces, over their eyelashes as they simply felt each other, reached out with touch and sound alone to guide. 

Obi-Wan slipped his tongue inside Anakin’s mouth, letting his hands roam down Anakin’s back, following the streams of rain, and tugging him closer by his ass. Anything to share a breath, a point of contact, a moment where they felt like one. Eventually, Anakin was rolling his hips into Obi-Wan, both completely uncaring about the way their clothes stuck to them or the cold of the rain pattering against their frames. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan breathed out, separating them for a moment. “Are you sure you want to do this again? You don’t have to. I’m content with just-”

“Yes,” Anakin smiled, watching the trails of water coming down Obi-Wan’s face and the small droplets that clung onto his hair before dripping onto his cheeks. “I want you. Please. I just want to see you, watch you. I want to see your face and eyes. All of you.”

“Always. All of me. Always,” Obi-Wan smiled, coming to give Anakin one more quick kiss as he laughed. “But I’d rather not give you all of me plus a cold.”

Anakin laughed in return, tilting his head up to the water and sticking his tongue out, trying to catch it in his mouth before coming back down, pressing a messy kiss to Obi-Wan’s cheek and sliding off his lap. They laughed as they grabbed the corset, shawl, camera bag, and now water-logged pillows, before sloshing through the mud and running back to the car. They stripped quickly, throwing their soaking wet clothes into the passenger seat of the car before sliding into the backseat. On any other day the shack would have been preferred, but winter had collapsed the roof in, leaving them without shelter. 

Anakin crawled over Obi-Wan, settling over his lap as he let Obi-Wan trail his hands up and down Anakin’s side. He leaned his head back at the touch, of the slight warmth of Obi-Wan’s hands following each crease of his skin, of each line of muscle or twist of torso to make sure he committed it to memory. 

He smoothed his hands up the curve of Anakin’s spine, slowly pulling Anakin down to him, to press their chests together and kiss. The radio was on, playing a song that mimicked the one Anakin and Obi-Wan were creating themselves with their breathes and moans and subtle  _ I love you’s _ singing between them. 

Anakin kissed a trail down Obi-Wan’s neck, sucking and nipping at the delicate skin, tasting the fresh rain that had chilled him but was now simmering with the low heat of Obi-Wan’s arousal. He ground his hips down into Obi-Wan, their cocks brushing against each other with each small roll. It was perfect, Obi-Wan arching his neck back at the feeling of it. 

“We should,” Anakin panted out, rolling his hips down hard against Obi-Wan, pulling a moan from both of them. “Switch. Switch -ah- positions.”

“No,” Obi-Wan smiled as he took his turn lavishing Anakin’s neck in kisses and hickeys, running his hands down Anakin’s back and grabbing his ass. He brought his fingers up to Anakin’s mouth, letting Anakin get them slick for him, before teasing at Anakin’s hole again. “I want you to take this at your pace. Take your pleasure for you. I want to watch how you make yourself fall apart on me.”

Obi-Wan slid two fingers inside Anakin, working him back open slowly as Anakin whined against him, forehead pressed into Obi-Wan’s chest. He rocked back on Obi-Wan’s fingers, pushing himself until he felt the base of Obi-Wan’s hand. 

“Another- please please,” Anakin whined out, pressing soft kisses into Obi-Wan’s chest from where his head lay. 

The stretch of Obi-Wan adding a third finger made Anakin moan loudly into the space of the car, his panting and writhing making the car windows fog up. He gripped Obi-Wan’s shoulder before moving to take one of his nipples in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the bud until it was hard, and Obi-Wan was panting against him. 

“Anakin,” he whined out, a breathy moan that Anakin had never heard before. His name whispered like a plea and a prayer, spurring him on. 

Obi-Wan slipped his fingers out of Anakin, moving to kiss him instead, to pull him and wrap himself in their kiss as much as possible. Finally, Anakin pushed himself up, braced himself with one hand gripping the back of the backseat bench, the other lining Obi-Wan’s cock up with his hole. He sank down slowly, letting himself stretch and be filled by Obi-Wan, until he finally sat flush with Obi-Wan’s hips. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan moaned out again. “You’re divine. You look like heaven incarnate and feel- ugh- feel like mercy.”

“Mercy?” Anakin whined out, slowly rocking his hips in circles against Obi-Wan to get used to him.

“Compassion, forgiveness, love. Mercy- oh ffff- Mercy is an act of kindness towards another. A divine blessing, even when someone isn’t worthy.”

Anakin finally rocked himself up, pulling Obi-Wan’s cock out of him until it was just the tip, and pushing his hips down slowly, pushing him all the way back in. At what Obi-Wan figured was the slowest pace possible, Anakin rocked up and down.

“Mercy. Do I need to give it?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes closed, trying not to thrust up into Anakin. This was about him, about Anakin taking what he wanted and what he needed. Obi-Wan could take the teasing for a few moments longer. 

“You don’t have to. But some, some of us beggars, would want to be granted mercy.”

“Good thing I’ve always been merciful,” Anakin smiled, finally speeding up, bouncing up and down on Obi-Wan’s cock. 

For Obi-Wan the sight was worthy of a painting, a portrait. Anakin’s hair damp from rain, rocking his hips back and forth, riding Obi-Wan in the back of his car. The way he moaned out his name, raking his nails down Obi-Wan’s chest at the pleasure between them. His head hung forward, gripping onto the seat for life as he took everything possible. 

“Please,” Anakin started begging, grabbing Obi-Wan’s wrist and placing it on his chest. “Touch me. Obi-Wan,” he let the last letter dissipate into the air. 

Obi-Wan tweaked one of Anakin’s nipples, rolling it between his fingers and pulling lightly. His other hand came to wrap around Anakin’s cock, smearing the precome over the tip and twisting his wrist up and down. Eventually, he just let Anakin fuck himself into his hand, rocking forward into Obi-Wan’s grip and back onto Obi-Wan’s cock. It was so close to being enough for Anakin, but it wasn’t. He needed faster, a better angle, something…  _ anything.  _

“Obi-Wan fuck me. Fuck into me please I can’t. I- harder. Fuck me fuck me-”

“Anything for my Anakin” Obi-Wan growled, coming to grab under Anakin’s ass and hold him, help him stay up, as he thrust up into Anakin and earned a cry. 

Quickly Anakin was falling apart, Obi-Wan’s hips slapping against skin the most beautiful and erotic sound either of them had heard in such an enclosed space. Anakin’s hand was braced against Obi-Wan’s chest, falling forward onto him as he took it over and over again. Feeling Obi-Wan shift just slightly to brush against his prostate with each thrust. 

“You’re taking me so well dearest. So beautiful letting me fuck into you. Such a good Anakin letting me use you until I’m coming. Do you want me to come in you? Fill you with my come. Let you feel it drip down your thighs?”

“Yes, yes please. Come in me. Obi-Wan come in me and make me yours. Mark me as yours, only yours.”

“Always and forever. Mine,” Obi-Wan kissed over Anakin’s heart before spilling in him, hips stilling in Anakin as he came. 

Anakin rarely had the chance to watch Obi-Wan’s face as he came, how his brows furrowed just as he reached his orgasm. His lips parted just slightly, head tilted back, sinking into the car seat below them. His hands never left Anakin’s skin, grounding himself in ensuring Anakin wouldn’t leave him. Trailing hands over him and whispering out  _ so good. So good for me. Did such a good job _ . before coming back to a whine from Anakin. 

Anakin had his cock in his hand, squirming against Obi-Wan still inside him, so close to his own orgasm but not there yet. So hard, so close, but he knew Obi-Wan was the one who liked to make him come. Bring Anakin to a finish by himself, so he worked himself slowly, just to keep himself right on the edge. 

“Fuck yourself for me dear,” Obi-Wan smiled, enjoying watching Anakin sitting on his cock, stroking himself. “Make yourself come for me.”

Anakin’s eyes went wide, one of the first times Obi-Wan wanted to watch him pleasure himself. Wanted to see how Anakin fucked himself when Obi-Want wasn’t around to do it for him. He quickened the pace of his hand, long strokes turning into short, fast pulls at his head as he worked closer. 

“Oh how erotic. I love watching you do this. I wanna see you come for me. Come on my chest. Give yourself your orgasm. Can you do that for me Anakin?”

He nodded, bracing himself hardest against Obi-Wan’s chest, moving to grip his bicep and dig his nails into the muscle there. Obi-Wan could feel him clench around his half-soft cock still buried in Anakin as Anakin came, come falling over his hands and coating Obi-Wan’s chest in white. Anakin was moaning out his name,  _ Obi-Wan, yes, yes, Obi-Wan _ , with his eyes closed, an imagined dream, a fantasy Obi-Wan would question him about later. 

But for now he watched as Anakin shook from the weight of his own orgasm, trying to keep from collapsing down onto Obi-Wan until he was cleaned up. A few tiny drops of leftover rain fell from his hair onto Obi-Wan’s chest as he grabbed the towel and wiped himself clean. Then Anakin toppled over, settling onto Obi-Wan’s chest and tucking his head into the crook of his shoulder. 

“Anakin, we should get you cleaned up too,” Obi-Wan smiled as he pressed kisses into the crown of Anakin’s head. 

“No. Stay in me. Stay,” Anakin mumbled out. “Wanna stay like this.”

“Ok. For a few hours. Then back to campus.”

“No,” Anakin mumbled again. “Home.”

“Anakin I can’t take you back to your house like this. You live forever away and-”

“Home.”

It took Obi-Wan a second to realize what Anakin meant in his hazy mindset. He meant Obi-Wan’s condo. Obi-Wan’s bed. Obi-Wan’s  _ home _ . 

“Ok. We can go home. Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments are always appreciated, but also feel free to come say hello on [tumblr](https://xeniaraven.tumblr.com).


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